New Leaf
Well-Known Member
As I write this, my three grands are sleeping in my living room.
I have not seen them in quite some time, the story is the same, they are pawns in the hands of their parents, and I am often seen as the "enemy", so my daughter goes silent, and the grands disappear.
It is my quest for normalcy in their lives that positioned me as such.
Then, my recognition that I was incapable of "helping" (enabling)....and that the peace and sanity in my home, for my own young son was stripped away.
Then my hubs passed.
Life has a way of throwing stuff at us.
Sigh.
I have been praying a lot for my son, my two, my grands to find their true potential.
Praying for strength to get through the grieving process and find my own way.
I have been grieving for a long time, over the choices of my wayward daughters, then the loss of my hubs.
Trying to find a way to bring peace to my life despite the choices and consequences reaped by drug use, hoping for change, finally knowing I have no control over adult children's choices.
After this long period of no contact, no phone number, no address, I received a text to go to my grandsons championship football game.
So, we went.
Seeing them was wonderful, they have grown so much, the oldest, skyscraper tall.
I found myself asking if they wanted to come for the summer.
Of course, their parents jumped at the chance to have a summer free. Promised to help with groceries, etc, etc.
I am on a widows budget.
They have EBT for the three kids.
I think you can all guess where this is going.
No show, no phone call, no answering texts.
My three beautiful grands are with me.
I love them dearly.
They are war torn.
Refugees.
One has no shoes, they all have no underwear.
At first, they are guarded.
I can see by the sadness in their eyes and I know from past experience that they have been through hell.
The stories start to spill out.
My gut churns, my heart aches.
Of course, I have blown my budget trying to get them decent clothes and food, that's besides the point, but nonetheless a factor for my son and I.
I have tried so many times to fix this. Okay, you are right, it is out of my control, I can't fix it.
Called CPS, many times in the past, to no avail, it seems the system is overwhelmed and the answer has always been that my grands are not in "imminent danger".
Bullcrap
(sorry)
My grands are refugees.
SIGH
Leafy
I have not seen them in quite some time, the story is the same, they are pawns in the hands of their parents, and I am often seen as the "enemy", so my daughter goes silent, and the grands disappear.
It is my quest for normalcy in their lives that positioned me as such.
Then, my recognition that I was incapable of "helping" (enabling)....and that the peace and sanity in my home, for my own young son was stripped away.
Then my hubs passed.
Life has a way of throwing stuff at us.
Sigh.
I have been praying a lot for my son, my two, my grands to find their true potential.
Praying for strength to get through the grieving process and find my own way.
I have been grieving for a long time, over the choices of my wayward daughters, then the loss of my hubs.
Trying to find a way to bring peace to my life despite the choices and consequences reaped by drug use, hoping for change, finally knowing I have no control over adult children's choices.
After this long period of no contact, no phone number, no address, I received a text to go to my grandsons championship football game.
So, we went.
Seeing them was wonderful, they have grown so much, the oldest, skyscraper tall.
I found myself asking if they wanted to come for the summer.
Of course, their parents jumped at the chance to have a summer free. Promised to help with groceries, etc, etc.
I am on a widows budget.
They have EBT for the three kids.
I think you can all guess where this is going.
No show, no phone call, no answering texts.
My three beautiful grands are with me.
I love them dearly.
They are war torn.
Refugees.
One has no shoes, they all have no underwear.
At first, they are guarded.
I can see by the sadness in their eyes and I know from past experience that they have been through hell.
The stories start to spill out.
My gut churns, my heart aches.
Of course, I have blown my budget trying to get them decent clothes and food, that's besides the point, but nonetheless a factor for my son and I.
I have tried so many times to fix this. Okay, you are right, it is out of my control, I can't fix it.
Called CPS, many times in the past, to no avail, it seems the system is overwhelmed and the answer has always been that my grands are not in "imminent danger".
Bullcrap
(sorry)
My grands are refugees.
SIGH
Leafy
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